


My Life With You

by caelum_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Jack Kline, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelum_writes/pseuds/caelum_writes
Summary: A collection of short exceprts as Dean and Cas move into a new home and start to build a life together with baby Jack.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Move-in Day

The sun was sitting high in the sky, creeping towards the apex of its arc, when the U-Haul pulled up outside the modest two-storey on a quiet, tree-lined residential street. The crisp spring air was warm, moving through the green leaves and blush blossom with a quiet rustle. The sound of the late Sunday morning was largely void; defined by its absences more than anything; no children playing or parents chit-chatting over their hedges just yet, as most in the neighbourhood were making the most of the last lie-in of the week.

Except for Dean Winchester, and his better half Castiel, who had been up since the sun first began to peek over the horizon, packing, stacking and taping boxes in the bunker. Several chaotic and disorganised hours later, all was packed and prepped, and here they were; home. They’d seen it before of course, but this was the first time seeing that house become their _home_.

“I can’t believe it,” Dean said, after silencing the rumbling engine. “My own white picket-fence.”

Cas, unsurprisingly unsentimental about fencing retorted with confusion. “The fence isn’t white.”

Dean rolled his eyes, lovingly, and made to get out of the truck without a response.

“We could paint it white, if you’d like?” Cas continued, once he too had disembarked, and had met Dean on the pavement side.

“No, man, I like it as is.”

The two walked up their front path - _theirs_ \- their steps springy with giddiness as they approached the front door. Pulling a pristine silver key from his jacket pocket, with a turn and click, Dean swung open the door to their new life. The pair stood on the front porch for a moment, not quite believing that this door was for them.

“Should I carry you over the threshold?” Dean joked, leaning over to Cas, face plastered with a grin.

Cas looked to his side and met Dean’s gaze, holding for a moment before-

“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Cas took the first step and walked into the entranceway. Dean quickly followed behind. The house was dark, with all the blinds left closed, the only light now streaming in through the open door, silhouetting Dean and Castiel in the narrow doorframe. Cas stood there, studying the blank walls, mentally populating them with where he envisioned they would put up photos of their family, past, present and future. Something about those blank white walls, the canvas for him to paint a picture of the life he had chosen, caught the angel off guard as he became overwhelmed with joy. The moment was only sweetened when Dean, who was having equally soppy thoughts about the prospect of a coat rack - a real place to hang his hat - intertwined his fingers in Castiel’s. Neither said a word for a good minute or two, not wanting the moment of pure indulgent fantasy to end - they were so unused to complete unapologetic wanting that it was so nice to bask in it even for a minute.

“We need to start unpacking at some point.” Dean broke the silence.

“Yes, Sam’s bringing Jack by tomorrow morning,” Cas agreed. “We need to have his room ready by tonight at the very least.”

Despite their agreement, they were still glued to the spot, hands still locked together.

“You gotta let go, Cas.”

“You first.”

The two began to stare at each other in a mix between a loving gaze and a challenge. Cas intensified his gaze.

“Same time.” he said.

Dean nodded, eyes never drifting from Cas’s. They each pulled their hand away at the same time, eyes still locked, and broke into a soft laughter.

“You let go a little earlier than me.” Dean teased.

“Actually, you started to pull your hand away six milliseconds before I did.” Cas retorted playfully.

Dean started back out towards the U-Haul with Cas in tow, turning his head back as he walked to reply;

“You can’t prove that.”

Dean opened up the back and the pair were reminded of the magnitude of the task ahead of them.

“Well,” Dean said, nodding his head slowly in a pre-emptive defeat. “Where do we start?”

Cas stepped up and made for a stack of two boxes. “I can take all the heavy ones.” he said, lifting the boxes with ease.

Angelic strength or not, Dean felt compelled to protest. “I can carry the heavy ones too.”

“There’s no need, Dean. It’ll be faster if I do it.” Cas replied, his voice earnest as he offered his help as always.

Dean scrunched up his face in a faux irritation. Of course, Cas was probably right, and even still, Dean wasn’t one to complain about having a literal angel do the heavy lifting for him. Dean opted for a double-box stack too, but ones marked ‘clothes’; an acceptable compromise for him.

Box after box, Dean and Castiel ferried their life from its transit state into its permanent home. With only one box left, Cas began to unpack and sort their contents on the empty living room floor, while Dean went to fetch the last box. The sun now sat directly overhead. This, paired with the strenuous back-and-forth, had lead Dean to ditching his flannel over-layer a while ago.

“Oh, hello!”

A cheery female voice chirped from behind Dean as he began to close up the U-Haul. Dean turned and was greeted by the broad smile of a mid-thirties woman in yoga pants. _Welcome to suburbia, huh._

“You must be my new neighbour!” she continued.

“Uh, yeah, hey,” Dean said, holding his hand over his eyes to shield them from the piercing sunlight. “I’m Dean. You live next-door?”

“Carol,” she replied. “And yes, I’m your right-side neighbour!”

“Awesome.” Dean nodded. Despite typically being effortlessly charismatic, Dean definitely felt out of his depth; he was simply not accustomed to the rules and decorum required in scenarios like these.

“You know if I’d known you were moving in today, I’d have made a casserole,” Carol began to ramble. “Do you like casserole? Oh, everybody likes casserole. In the next few days, you’d better expect a casserole.”

“Sure, I love casserole.” Dean shrugged, humoured somewhat by this strange, incredibly enthusiastic woman.

“Great,” Carol sighed, face still plastered with a big grin. “I hope your wife won’t mind.” Carol gestured to Dean’s wedding ring.

Dean licked his lips and started rolling his wedding band around his finger as he was put in the not unusual bet never pleasant situation of having to correct someone to explain himself.

“Husband actually,” he corrected. “And uh, he won’t mind; I do most of the cooking anyway.”

Carol clapped her hands over her mouth in a melodramatic gasp. “Oh! A husband of course! My bad! How long have you been married?” Carol said, frantically attempting to recover from her faux-pas.

“‘Bout three months.” Dean answered.

“Oh! Newlyweds!” Carol cooed, already seeming to have completely recovered from her earlier embarrassment. “Any kids?”

“Just one, he’s four.” Dean grinned proudly, his earlier reservations melting away as the joy he felt at the opportunity to talk about his family took over. “My brother’s bringing him over tomorrow once we’ve settled in.”

“Aw! So cute! So you’ve been together a while then?”

“Six months.” Dean replied honestly without thinking.

Carol paused, unable to hide her confusion as the cogs in her brain connected dots in ways her traditionally-wired brain couldn’t comprehend.

“Wow,” Carol laughed awkwardly. “You got married after three months; that’s so fast!”

There was another pause. Just then, Cas emerged from the still open front door and strolled over.

“Dean, I was wondering where you’d got to.”

“Hey Cas, come here I’m meeting the neighbours,” Dean beckoned Cas closer and placed an arm around his waist. “This is Carol from next-door.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Castiel.” Cas said, plain and business-like.

“Wait, but your son’s four?” she continued to work through her thoughts aloud. “Oh, is he from a previous relationship, or?”

“Jack?” Cas answered, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. “No, we adopted him.”

“Before you were a couple?”

Dean figured now was the time for a little lie of convenience, undoubtedly the first of many.

“He’s the kid of a friend of ours,” Dean half-lied. “She died when he was born so we took him in; me, Cas and my brother.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about your friend,” Carol said, her confusion fading. “But that’s so sweet. Well, I won’t keep you, I’m sure you’ve got tonnes of unpacking to do!”

“Yeah, well, great to meet you Carol, see you around.” Dean said with a smile.

“You sure will, with casserole!” Carol assured before she headed off along the street.

Dean’s smile lingered as he stood there, outside the house he shared with the love of his life, who was right there pressed to his side. He let the noon sun shine down on his face and the gentle breeze flush over him.

“Dean,” Cas spoke, tentative to break Dean’s moment of euphoria. “I came out here to tell you that we left all the crockery and kitchenware at the bunker.”

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on [tumblr](https://badjoices.tumblr.com/post/643227116205391872/my-life-with-you)


	2. First Night In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas spend their first evening in their new home, Cas gives Dean a housewarming gift.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, dipping down toward the western horizon, when Dean and Castiel were sitting on the floor of the living room of their new home. The room was illuminated by a soft rose and amber glow streaming in through the windows and painting the blank walls with streaks of light. Half-emptied boxes were scattered around the room, with furniture wrapped up in foam and padding lined up against the wall as yet to be arranged.

In the middle of the floor though, the two had made a little clearing where they sat around a now empty pizza box, beers in hand. This setup, whilst remarkably simple, felt complete as Dean looked over at his angel as he lifted the lip of the bottle up to his own. Dean was awestruck as ever, unable to take his eyes off Cas as he studied the motion of the muscles in his face as he drank. Though now there was no need to quickly avert his eyes when Cas looked over and met his gaze.

“What?” Cas asked.

“You know I just like to look at you.” Dean replied, his gruff voice soft and quiet.

“Well don’t just look.” Cas set the bottle down and moved his free hand to cup Dean’s face as he leaned over and pressed his lips against Dean’s in a soft kiss. Cas pulled back a fraction, face millimetres from Dean’s.

“This is-” Dean began, closing his eyes and smiling, lost for words. “I can’t believe I get to do this with you.”

“You’ve kissed me before.”

Dean grabbed Cas’s hand from his face and held it in his own. “I mean moving into an actual house with you,” he said. “I always thought that the only permanent place I’d ever have would be my grave, y’know.”

Cas frowned with loving concern. One strange aspect, of many, in their relationship was just how romantic the ordinary really was for them. Every romantic trope, every milestone, for them was like a miracle when for so long they’d been forced apart and boxed in to rigid roles; soldiers, killers, martyrs. But these four walls surrounded the two of them like a warm embrace.

“You should start believing, Dean,” Cas said, his other hand placed gently over Dean’s. “Good things do happen.”

Dean smiled and shook his head, flustered; Cas’s nostalgic call-backs always hit him right in the heart.

“Yeah, I know they do.”

Cas dipped his head to the side and smiled, regarding Dean for a moment.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I like to look at you too.” Cas said, sincere for a hot minute until they both started laughing.

“God, you’re such a sap!” Dean said through laughter.

“So are you,” Cas said, pushing himself up off the floor and over to one of the many boxes scattered around the room. “I’ve got something for you. A housewarming gift.”

Dean leaned back, his hand pressed into the floor behind him for support while Cas rummaged in the box with his back to his husband, grabbing two items.

“If it says the words ‘live, laugh, love’ on it I’m gunna throw it at you, Cas.”

With that said, Cas subtly replaced the item in his right hand. He’d dispose of it discreetly later… Meanwhile, he turned back and with a cheeky grin his unfurled something fabric-y with a red and white gingham pattern - a cooking apron topped with a ruffled heart shape on its upper half.

Dean brought a hand over his face as he sighed, concealing a smile. “Cas, why?”

“So you don’t get your clothes dirty when you’re baking.” Cas answered, his voice genuine and sweet.

“No- Cas I know what an apron is,” Dean said, humoured as ever by his husband’s earnest insanity. “I mean why did you get the red and white one with the ruffly heart?

You’re gunna have me looking like a suburban housewife.”

Cas tilted his head and frowned. “I know. That’s why I bought it.”

“You wanna dress me like a housewife?”

“I thought you would find it humorous,” Cas answered. “From your reaction I presume I was correct?”

Dean dragged himself up off the floor and sauntered over to Cas, wrapping his arms around him, kissing him with an almost desperate pressure, nearly knocking Cas off his balance before Cas brought his free hand onto the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him closer still.

Dean pulled back and with a cheeky smile he said,

“I’m more whore than housewife, but I love the gesture.”

Cas tried desperately to hide his flustered blushing, Dean enjoying watching him fail miserably. Dean took the apron from Cas’s hand and held it up in front of him, looking it over.

“I think,” Dean began, slyly edging out his proposition. “We should take this up to the bedroom.”

Cas, who was still completely destroyed by Dean whenever he got a little suggestive, could only nod and utter a broken. “Y-Yeah.”

Dean slotted his hand in Cas’s and started towards the stairs, Cas trailing behind him. Dean turned back to Cas as they stood outside the closed master bedroom door.

“I reckon we got a bed needing christening.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Cas said, frowning in an amused disgust.

Dean chuckled before pulling Cas’s face toward his. Cas pushed his lips against Dean’s, hands gripping Dean’s shirt tight. He broke the kiss only to say,

“Put the apron on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on [tumblr](https://badjoices.tumblr.com/post/643407276193005568/my-life-with-you)


	3. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas awake on the first morning in their new home.

The sun was sitting low in the sky, peeking over the eastern horizon, when Dean was awoken with a sharp strip of bright sunlight cutting across the room through the crack in the curtains. He wasn’t unused to waking up with Cas’s face buried in his chest, but that didn’t dampen the sweetness. The very act of sleeping next to someone he loved, _really_ loved, was the best feeling in the world. While for many years he absolutely couldn’t have admitted it, it was one thing he’d always craved; to be held, to feel someone’s warm skin against his own rather than scratchy, questionably clean motel bedsheets. The safety and comfort that he hungered for, that lead him to sleeping with one hand on the trigger of a gun, now took the form of the angel snoozing beside him.

For Cas sleep was entirely optional, furthermore it was something that up until recently he hadn’t physically been able to do. Learning to sleep for an angel was less about the procedure, which was simple enough (lie down, close your eyes, wait, profit?), but more about the completely alien idea of letting your guard down so completely and switching off your faculties. It was something he had so far found he was able to do only with Dean beside him, or more specifically, holding on to him for dear life. That was the only time he felt truly safe and at ease enough to be that vulnerable. Dean didn’t seem to mind being the angel’s living, breathing body pillow at all. 

One thing Cas hadn’t yet mastered in the art of sleeping was dreaming. So far all he’d managed was a sort of show-reel of his lived memories. Some, of course, were pleasant; memories with Dean and Jack and Sam. Others were… less so. Some were jarring enough to shatter the feeling of safety and comfort and jolt him awake. At times like this, he would typically take a breather, stroll around the bunker in the dark, pick out a book and sit alone in the kitchen for a bit. But here, in the fresh sheets, on the brand-new springy mattress with spring air streaming in through the bedroom window, Cas had dreamt for the first time. And he couldn’t wait to tell Dean all about it.

Cas, who had awoken only a minute or two before Dean did (as he was usually awoken by Dean’s half-woken stirring), tapped a hand gently on Dean’s chest.

“Dean,” he said, his morning voice somehow even more gravelly than his regular voice. “Are you awake?”

Dean brought a hand to his face, haphazardly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I had a dream last night.” Cas’s excitement didn’t really come across in his tone as, just as a human would be first thing in the morning, he was still ‘booting up’ so to speak. 

“An actual one? Not just memories or whatever it is you get?”

“I dreamt that you and I were on a deserted island.” Cas relayed, tracing shapes on Dean’s chest with his index finger.

“That it?” Dean asked, expecting that angel dreams would be epic and complex, or at least that the dream would be as batshit insane as his husband was when conscious.

“Well it was my first one,” Cas sighed. “I’m still perfecting the art I suppose.” 

“Well at least I was there; you got one thing right.” Dean said, grinning before planting a kiss on top of the angel’s head.

“I wouldn’t call it a dream if you weren’t in it.” Cas smiled. 

“Dude, it’s way too early to be that sentimental,” Dean sighed, stretching his arm out awkwardly to feel around on the bedside table for his phone. “Sam’s bringing Jack soon, we gotta get up, bud.”

The worst part of the day by far; having to drag themselves off the other to get out of bed. The two went about their morning dues with the added excitement of everything being so new. New closet to take clothes out of (though with a limited selection since most of them were packed away in still taped-up boxes), new laundry basket to chuck yesterday’s clothes in (and miss, so new floor to leave dirty boxers on too), new shower to share, new stove to cook (and burn) eggs on, new sink to wash dishes in… The newness of some things was arguably less exciting than others.

The pair didn’t speak much for the first 30 minutes of the day; Cas knew Dean wasn’t a morning person. Rather they would both flit around out of each other’s way until Dean had had time to sit down with his morning coffee. Of course Cas knew exactly when this was, not just from the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air, but also because that’s when he’d finally greet Cas with a proper good morning.

This greeting varied from day to day, taking the form of anything from a grin and a “Good morning, sunshine!”, to an impassioned smooch. On this morning, Dean had opted to walk up to Cas from behind, smack his ass and say,

“Mornin’ sweet-cheeks.”

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas replied, not taking his eyes off the boiling water he was pouring over a green teabag (which Dean almost made him spill). “When can we expect Sam to be over?”

“He texted me that they were twenty minutes away, uh…” Dean looked back at his phone, squinting a little due to his slight far-sightedness. “Eighteen minutes ago.”

Cas nodded and sipped his freshly-made green tea, still standing by the kitchen counter. Slowly but surely, just as with sleep, Cas was mastering food and drink too. Though without really being able to rely on Dean the same way, food was proving more of a challenge. So far he’d been able to enjoy only very mild or simple things, a fact that Dean teased him about often - 

_“Plain toast, Cas, really?”_

_“Peanut butter tastes of… so much. This is all I can handle.”_

Green tea had become a favourite of his; it was simple enough not to upset his sensitive taste buds, while still having a delightful warmth and aroma that made its consumption worthwhile. Dean teased him for this too, though that was mostly a case of Dean still being stuck in his ways of masculine posturing-

_“I don’t care if green tea is ‘gay’, Dean. I am gay.”_

_“Come on man, you’re a warrior of God.”_

_“God’s dead. And I like green tea and sex with men. Sue me.”_

Dean had largely relented on the tea front, though he still scoffed when Cas had the audacity to order it in public. 

The two were alerted by the familiar rumble of the Impala (driven over by Sam much to Dean’s chagrin as he and Cas had driven over the night before in the U-Haul) to Sam’s arrival. Dean stepped out onto the front path as Sam pulled into the drive. Sam clambered out the front seat and greeted Dean with a quick hug. 

“Hey man,” Dean said, smiling as the excitement of showing his little brother round his new house bubbled up. “He give you much trouble?”

“He’s the quietest four-year-old I have ever seen.” Sam shook his head, looking back at Jack, sitting calmly and quietly in the back seat. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Dean strolled up to Baby, un-belted Jack and pulled him up into his arms. “You miss me, kid?”

“No.” Jack asserted confidently before bursting into giggles and burying his face in Dean’s shoulder to stifle his laughter.

“Liar.” Dean said with a soft chuckle. 

Meanwhile Sam greeted Cas with another hug. “You unpack everything yet?”

“Not even close,” Cas sighed, half distracted as he gazed lovingly over Sam’s shoulder at Dean laughing with little Jack. “We had make a trip back to the bunker halfway through; we forgot some stuff.”

Sam, noticing Cas’s distraction, turned back and saw his brother grinning like he’d never seen.

“Hey Dean,” Sam called. “You gunna show me round your new place or what?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean trudged over and handed Jack over to Cas, whose arms were already outstretched ready to take Jack and smother him with kisses.  
Dean lead Sam inside. “I mean it’s not much,” Dean began explaining. “We haven’t finished unpacking and I know Cas wants to remodel the kitchen already, but-”

“Dean, this place is great.” Sam interrupted.

Dean scoffed with a smile. Jack, who had been let loose by Cas, was running about the place, exploring.

“Have you child proofed everything yet?” Sam asked, frowning as he watched Jack nearly collide with the kitchen island.

“Define ‘child-proof’.” Dean said, half-jokingly. Sam gave him a withering look. “Hey, kid, come on don’t run around in here.” Dean said to Jack before he turned back to Sam. “Come-on man, I’m kidding. We got soft corner-thingies for the coffee table.”

“You know there are websites that can tell you all about this stuff.” 

“Oh sure, new-age mommy blogs where they tell you that kale milk is the best alternative to cow’s milk, because regular milk will kill your kid.” Dean mocked. “I could handle this stuff when I was eight years old, I’ll manage. Besides, I’ve got Cas now, and he’s the most responsible, sensible guy here.”

“Hey, remember when Cas ate raw meat off the floor of a diner.” Sam said with his typical sass.

“That was Hunger’s influence.” Cas justified, his hand resting on the top of Jack’s head as Jack clung to his leg. “If Jack gets hurt I’ll heal him.”

Sam sighed. “That can’t be your strategy, guys.”

“You never got hurt on my watch when we were kids, did ya?” Dean smacked Sam’s arm.

“You almost shot me by accident when you were seven,” Sam recalled. “But sure, I didn’t break my head open on a coffee table.”

“Sam,” Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I know you worry about the kid, I know you miss him. But me and Cas, we got this. And just watch, Sammy, when you and Eileen finally have a kid of your own and me and Cas are already pros, we’ll be the ones giving you advice.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah well I don’t know if we’ll get the time.”

“I think if you both want it then you’ll make time.” said Cas.

“Yeah, maybe…” Sam shrugged.

“Speaking of time,” Dean cut in. “You staying for lunch?”

Sam perked back up. “Uh, no. Eileen’ll be by any minute to pick me up; we’re seeing a venue today.”

Dean grinned and poked him brother excitedly. “Look at you, huh! Bride to be!”

“Shut up.” Sam scoffed. Sam walked around the kitchen, checking out the cabinets and the counter-tops. He noticed something red and white scrunched up, and picked it up to inspect it. He unfurled the mystery item and upon seeing a red and white gingham apron topped with a ruffly heart-shape, he started snickering.

“You been baking?” he teased.

Dean’s face dropped into a grimace. “No,” he said. “Don’t touch that.”

“What are you-” Sam began before spying Dean and Cas’s awkward expressions and dropping the apron with immense disgust. “Guys, gross.”

Dean shrugged. “What? It’s my house.”

And it was, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on [tumblr](https://badjoices.tumblr.com/post/643860933311135744/my-life-with-you)


	4. So There's This Guy...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's been spotted around town and made quite the impression on the local singles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different this chapter. Hope you enjoy! x

The sun was long past the horizon, the high street illuminated by the yellow-amber glow of the street-lights and the dim coloured lights spilling out from the bars. The spring air was cool and still, the whoops and hollers of the rowdy Friday night crowds echoed through the centre of town. 

In one of the bars that lined the street, a group of early-thirties women gathered together to toast to another week of work behind them. Pushing past their exhaustion was their relief, their ecstatic joy at being free at last, even if only for two days. The ladies sat around a high circular table covered in a rainbow of different fruity cocktails, curly straws, and paper umbrellas. Already the table was littered with empty glasses of drinks long since backed. 

“So…” began one woman, Rachel, pushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. “I saw the hottest guy at the playground the other day.”

Tia, a tattooed, bespectacled brunette, leaned in eagerly. “Oh?”

Rachel gave a knowing look to her friend before she began her story…

“It was on Wednesday, on my day off. I took Ethan out to the playground near my house, and it was all normal; the usual moms and nannies,

“Anyway, then I spot this guy helping his little kid, the cutest kid by the way, on the slide. There are a few dads around sometimes, you know, but this guy- when I tell you he was cute, it’s an understatement,

“He was so good with his kid too. The way he smiled at that kid, it was like he felt just so lucky to have him. Every five seconds he was squeezing him, or ruffling his hair, or kissing him on his little forehead.

“I just thought, I bet he’d make such an amazing step-dad, maybe I should get on that. A guy like that’s definitely not single I bet. I don’t _know_ if he’s married, I couldn’t see a wedding ring from where I was sitting, but I was pretty far away.”

“So you didn’t speak to him?” a third woman, Sara, with hair in a neat puff and arms wrapped tight in a thick cardigan, asked, straw perched just below her lip poised to take another sip.

“No, I just watched him from afar.” Rachel sighed dreamily, recounting the man’s devilish smile and angled jaw in her mind.

“Why not?” Tia pushed, playfully slapping her friends arm. “You need to get back out there since _Mike_.” she spits the name and follows up with a gagging gesture.

“I know, I know.” Rachel shrugs, shrinking somewhat from her earlier excitement. “I’m still working up to it, but if I see him again I swear I will.”

The fourth woman, Yulia, took a big sip of her mojito, almost like a deep inhale, then added. “I have a cute guy story too.”

Tia perked up immediately and starting bouncing in her seat. “Okay, okay, spill.”

“So,” Yulia began, fiddling with her tall glass and nervously shuffling in her seat. “He’s been coming into the café every morning to get coffee,

“He’s tall- actually not _that_ tall, maybe six foot? But still - tall. Anyway, he came in on Thursday morning and he actually made conversation with me. When he got up to the counter he gestured up to the menu and was like ‘I don’t know what half these things mean’. And I just laughed really nervously; it was so embarrassing. His smile was so pretty, you guys, I just melted. Then he said ‘Cas is the one who knows about all this stuff, I can’t keep up, you know, coffee is coffee.’ 

“I think Cas is his wife or something ‘cause then I clocked he had a wedding ring on. Shame. Anyway I just said ‘yeah’ really awkwardly in a sort of half swoon; I couldn’t come up with anything to say. Then he goes on to order the most complicated drink with like, three different flavour shots in it. He says ‘it’s not for me’ like he’s so embarrassed about it, it was so cute. I was like ‘no judgement, _you_ can order _whatever_ you like’. I really didn’t mean to sound so thirsty. 

“Then he leaves and, I don’t wanna admit this, but I watched him go, you know. Nice ass.”

Sara, who was seemingly the most composed of the four, shook her head, snickering at her usually timid and reserved friend openly thirsting for coffee shop guy. Tia was frowning, trying to string together a thought that was forming messily and incoherently in her slightly tipsy mind.

“That kinda sounds like the guy who fixed my car…” Tia mused, voice a little slurred.

“Oh my gosh,” Yulia gasped, more excited than this particular revelation really called for. “I think coffee shop guy did say he was a mechanic at one point.”

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if it was _actually_ the same guy though,” Tia said, before taking a big sip through her straw. “The car guy was really hot too. Like, I was twirling my hair the whole time laughing at everything he said.”

“Oh my god, Tia,” Sara shook her head. “Did you know he was married?”

“Yeah I saw the ring, whatever,” Tia laughed. “I bet I can steal that bitch’s man.”

“God, stop it.” Sara scolded through her laughter. 

“Seriously, unless she is the _perfect vessel of divine beauty_ , I could totally steal him,” Tia continued. “I mean, when I came to pick up my car there was definitely something there,

“I walked up and he, unprompted, was like ‘you’re the girl with a cute little bug, right?’. I was like,” Tia stuck out her chest, letting her cleavage peek out of her tank top in a cartoonish pose, and began to speak with an over-the-top sultry tone.

“‘Yeah, that’s me; cute girl for the cute bug.’. And then he laughed a little bit. Then he even commented on my tattoos he was like ‘nice sleeve’ and we talked about them a little bit and I asked him if he had any and he said he has one, but it’s on his chest. So… I was a little brave and I said ‘Oh, well you can show me some time if you want’ and I could have sworn he got a little flustered.”

“He probably got flustered because he was at _work_ and he’s _married_!” Sara protested.

“Maybe,” Tia conceded with an unbothered shrug. She seemed a little lost in her thoughts. “He looked so good with a little car grease on him though. I’d buy a calendar of that guy. You know, I would so objectify him.”

“Tia, please.” Rachel grimaced. “Here’s me talking about a sweet loving father, and then there’s you flirting with a married mechanic.”

“I mean, not to be judgemental,” Sara added. “But how do you know he’s not like a typical misogynistic macho type?”

“What, just because he’s a mechanic? That’s so judgemental, Sara, you can’t make assumptions like that.” Yulia scoffed. “He seemed really sweet. When he was talking about his wife, you could tell he really loves her. I didn’t get a typical ‘I hate my wife’ vibe from him.” Yulia gave a sympathetic look to Tia. “Sorry, Tia.”

“Doesn’t matter, I still think I have a shot.” Tia shrugged. “What ‘bout you, Sara? You got your eye on anybody? Some nerdy glasses guy who reads Jane Austen or whatever it is you’re into.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Actually yeah, a really sweet guy came into the library this week with his kid. He’s probably too old for me, and I think he’s married, but he had dark hair and really nice blue eyes,

“He took out a bunch of picture books and he told me that he’d just moved here recently. He also borrowed some gardening books, which was like, _swoon_. He just seemed so genuinely sweet and honest. The way he spoke was just… kind?”

“He’s definitely gay.” Tia asserted. Sara just gave her a weary look. “I’m just saying every guy you like turns out to be gay. You have a type, and it’s gay guys.”

“No way! Dan wasn’t gay.” Sara pouted.

“Yeah, but he _was_ bi, and he moved to Florida to be with his boyfriend _Julian_.” Rachel added.

“Well technically I had a shot with him. You know, before he moved to Florida.” Sara said, deflated. “I mean, library guy didn’t seem gay. Not that it matters anyway.”

“How does someone _seem_ gay?” Yulia pondered honestly.

“Well it’s not like there’s one set of traits for gay people,” Tia said. “But I think a pretty good predictor is if Sara has a crush on them.”

“Shut up.”

“Woah guys, oh my god!” Rachel hissed, patting Yulia’s arm furiously. “The guy, the hot dad, he just walked in. Don’t look, but he’s right by the bar!”

The other three immediately started craning their necks, very obviously, to get a good look. There at the bar seeming to be ordering a pair of drinks was hunter, husband, and father; Dean Winchester.

“Dude, that’s the car guy.” Tia said, getting a good look by standing up on her tippy toes.

“Yeah, that’s coffee guy.” Yulia confirmed.

Tia sat back down. “Don’t tell me that’s library guy too?” 

“No,” Sara shook her head. “Library guy had dark hair, remember.”

“Uhhh, that him?” Tia said, pointing towards the table that Dean was quickly approaching, two beers in hand, where a smiling Castiel sat in wait.

Sara gasped. “That _is_ him.”

Dean, as soon as he had placed the two bottles down on the table, leant down to plant a quick kiss on Cas’s lips. As he pulled away, the girls could see Cas smiling up at Dean, his gentle gaze soft and sincere, while Dean looked back at Cas like he was looking at the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, which he was.

The ladies sat in stunned silence; what they’d just witnessed was somehow disheartening and heartwarming all at once. Tia was the first to speak.

“Sara, you’re cursed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See on [tumblr](https://badjoices.tumblr.com/post/644403808043155456/my-life-with-you)


	5. Only if it's You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's date night and Dean is anxiously awaiting whatever Cas has planned for the two of them.

Evening’s are beautiful here. The way the sunlight splinters out through the trees, painting the world in amber splotches; the way the air is still and the world silent; the way the clouds sit in the sky like cotton candy, soft, light and glowing with radiant backlit sunshine. Every evening is perfect enough to be a date night, but not every evening is free enough. 

But not this one night, with Jack in the expert care of Carol, Dean and Cas’s lovely, if not over-enthusiastic neighbour-to-the-right. Finally, they had a night to themselves, and while a night in was certainly the most appealing option as far as Dean was concerned, Cas had insisted on going out.

Castiel, angel of the lord, had consulted with his new friend, the lovely librarian Sara, as to where the best places in town were to take a date. Sara, Cas had discovered, was quite the romantic, and luckily the two had very similar tastes. Everything she had suggested was lavish, classy, exquisite. Dean hadn’t met Sara, but he’d heard a lot about her. She’d convinced Cas to join the local library’s book club, she’d recommended Cas a whole bunch of romance novels that Cas would read late into the night, much to Dean’s irritation as he’d have to kick Cas out the bedroom if he refused to go to sleep, only to find him beaming the next morning, flitting about the kitchen making an elaborate breakfast and showering Dean with kisses all loved up from whatever he’d been reading.

Knowing all this, Dean was more than a little apprehensive about whatever Castiel had planned for the two of them. The last thing he wanted to do was put on a suit and tie, it would just remind him of being on a case more than anything. Not least since the only suit s he owned were his fake FBI suits. And he only had one left that didn’t have irremovable blood stains on it. 

“What are you wearing?” Dean asked Cas, feeling like an insecure teenage girl going to her first party.

“I was just going to wear what I’m wearing now,” Cas replied, dressed in his regular day clothes, which consisted primarily of knitted jumpers and slacks. “There’s no need to get changed, I think you look great in whatever you wear.”

Dean’s heart always fluttered at Cas’s compliments. He was no stranger to compliments, but they so often came with an air of ulterior motive; to belittle him, to objectify him, to get him off guard. From Cas though, they always came off like they were some objective truth, which was certainly an odd feeling, because that meant he must be wrong about certain things. And being wrong certainly wasn’t a great feeling, but being loved was. It was sort of an unsettling dichotomy.

“Oh… sure, okay,” Dean said, flustered. “I guess I’m ready, then.”

The drive was quiet, with Dean mostly stewing in anxiety, which then lead on to guilt that he didn’t trust Castiel enough, which lead to more anxiety that he was being noticeably weird. Of course, he was, and Cas didn’t miss a beat in saying,

“Dean, I’m not going to take you anywhere you won’t like.”

Dean gave an awkward scoff. “I know.”

“Good,” Cas nodded. “Turn right here.”

Cas lead Dean along until they turned into… the parking lot of a burger joint. 

Dean frowned, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed that _this_ was the result of Cas’s meticulous brainstorming. 

“Uh… Cas is this the place?”

“Yes. We’re not staying,” Cas explained. “Sara suggested many restaurants, but none of them had burgers on the menu.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I _can_ eat other things.”

“I have yet to see it.”

Dean’s face dropped into a weary expression, though really he was always humoured by Cas’s snide remarks. 

“Stay here, I’ll be back.” 

Cas popped out of the Impala for a few minutes leaving Dean to stew in his thoughts. The two had only been married a few months, and together a few more. Everything had changed so quickly, but in a lot of ways, not at all. He could easily have pictured them doing exactly the same thing, with the exception that at the end of the night they’d go their separate ways. It all felt so stupid, looking back. So stupid, but so simple.

Dean watched the restaurant doors waiting for Cas to return, wondering where Cas really wanted to go that night. Cas was apparently this big romantic who liked stories about big gestures and lame gooey stuff like that. Cas liked to hold hands in public, Cas liked to kiss in public. Maybe Cas liked fancy restaurants too. Maybe he wasn’t doing enough to make sure Cas was happy.

Cas returned a few minutes later, two paper bags in hand and big grin on his face. Once he’d clambered back into the Impala and dumped the food in the back-seat he said,

“Okay, let’s go. And drive fast so the food doesn’t get cold.”

The drive was longer than Dean expected, as Cas lead him out of town and through quiet backroads out into the wilderness. They finally stopped at the edge of some woodlands, and Cas lead Dean along the path until they get to a quiet stream with an old stone bridge over it. 

The bridge was little more than a simple arch-shape; no walls or railings. Cas sits down with his feet dangling over, almost skimming the trickling water as it flows underneath. Dean followed suit, perching on the edge of this old, tiny stone bridge beside Castiel, eating a burger and watching the stars come out.

“Sara told me about this place,” Castiel spoke once he’d finished his burger. “I told her I wanted somewhere quiet where it would just be the two of us. I thought you would like that best.”

Dean lips turned up, but his brow was furrowed. “Yeah, I do like it,” he sighed. “Do you?”

Cas looked over at Dean, reading his micro-expressions like a book. “I do.” he said firmly, reassuringly.

“If you wanted to go to a restaurant,” Dean began, taking a second to swallow down his worry. “I would go.”

Cas gazed up at the stars for a moment, their appearance only in the dark sky much like Dean’s freckles only coming into view in the bright sunlight. 

“But _you_ wouldn’t want to.” Cas said, his eyes still searching the night sky. 

“You don’t know that.”

Cas smiled and turned to look Dean in the eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay, sure,” Dean conceded. “You got me there. But, I’d try it out, you know, for you.”

“I don’t need you to do that, Dean.” Cas said, slipping his fingers in between Dean’s as they sat side by side. “You already do enough for me.”

Dean looked over at Cas, surprised. 

“What do you mean?”

“I know that it’s not been easy for you,” Cas answered, looking down fondly at their intertwined hands. “Restaurants are full of people.”

Cas doesn’t need to say much more than that. Dean’s heart sank a little. There was a lot he had to work through, or rather, push past, in order to get to the point he was at. And he’d done a pretty piss-poor rush job of it all. But he did it anyway, because after everything Cas had done for him, it was the least he could do.

“It’s not…” 

Dean couldn’t string together a single sentence; he gave up trying.

“Dean, you married me. You married me in front of everyone either one of us cares about. That’s more than enough for me,” Cas leant his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“We’re raising Jack together, we have a beautiful home together. I have everything I wanted; it’s more than I ever thought I would have. Maybe one day I’d like to try a nice restaurant in town, one with candles, and music, and a wine list,”

Cas chucked as Dean grimaced at the mention of a wine list.

“Yes, a wine list and we’ll _both_ have a glass,” Cas continued. “That’s what I want. But I don’t _need_ it. Not now, not yet. There’s no rush, there’s only us.”

Dean smiled softly, glancing down at the angel on his shoulder, then back up at the star-speckled sky.

“Okay,” Dean spoke softly, quietly so that the stars might not overhear. “Just us. And I promise one day we’ll do date night your way.”

The two sat there for forever in a few minutes, feeling the warmth radiate from the other as the night air cooled around them. Moonlight bounced off the uneven water’s surface, sparkling as if it were made of diamonds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter on [tumblr](https://badjoices.tumblr.com/post/645039716160421888/my-life-with-you)


End file.
